This poem describes the poet wandering alone like a cloud when they come upon a large group of golden daffodils by a lake. The daffodils are dancing happily in the breeze beside the water. There are so many flowers, around ten thousand, tossing and twirling without end. Though the waves of the lake danced as well, the daffodils seemed even more joyous in their play. The poet was overcome by the beauty of the scene and found they could recall it vividly in quiet moments, filling their heart with delight.
This poem describes the poet wandering alone like a cloud when they come upon a large group of golden daffodils by a lake. The daffodils are dancing happily in the breeze beside the water. There are so many flowers, around ten thousand, tossing and twirling without end. Though the waves of the lake danced as well, the daffodils seemed even more joyous in their play. The poet was overcome by the beauty of the scene and found they could recall it vividly in quiet moments, filling their heart with delight.
This poem describes the poet wandering alone like a cloud when they come upon a large group of golden daffodils by a lake. The daffodils are dancing happily in the breeze beside the water. There are so many flowers, around ten thousand, tossing and twirling without end. Though the waves of the lake danced as well, the daffodils seemed even more joyous in their play. The poet was overcome by the beauty of the scene and found they could recall it vividly in quiet moments, filling their heart with delight.
That floats on high o’er vales and hills. When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine,
And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending linen Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand sow I at a glance, Tossing their hands in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparking waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company; I gazed-and gazed-but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.